Harry Potter The Snake and the Philosopher's Stone
by CalemInTheGrave
Summary: A Slytherin!Harry rewrite of the original Books! Drarry, contains some hard language but no smut. I'm awful with Summaries so I apologise. I'm setting to Rated M for Language and some dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

Hello Everyone!

This is a project I've been thinking about doing for a while now. A Slytherin!Harry fic.

That being said, I have to emphasise that it's Drarry. It's very much an OTP of mine and if you don't agree with the pairing I recommend another doc. I'm not going to do any "love at first sight" stuff or even develop the relationship into romantic for a while(book 2 or three of all goes according to the extremely loose plan I have going) so you may enjoy it for a while, but there's nothing quite like reading and enjoying a story just to have your NOTP pop up.

Anyway! Some(just some not all) of the dialogue for the first few chapters will be straight from the book. I'm not plagiarising or anything, but some of the dialog makes sense and fits well. Around chapter five or so the dialog will become all my own. Basically after he leaves the Dursleys home.

That in mind, please enjoy the story and review! I welcome all criticism.

* * *

"Albus must be out of his mind!"

Inside the unremarkable square home a young child was screaming at the top of his lungs, and from her perch outside Minerva McGonagall could hear the fussy boy throwing around what she presumed to be toys or perhaps his food dishes.

"Little tyke." A deep voice chortled from within the home.

The grey tabby rolled her narrow green eyes as she listened to the thin twig of a woman who was Ms. Petunia Dursley rush to her sons side, cooing and praising the misbehaving child. Hissing quietly McGonagall looked down at a map that lay open at her paws. There was no way this was it. There was absolutely no possible way that this was the 4 Privet Drive that Albus Dumbledore planned on sending the dear boy. These two could hardly manage their own child properly let alone one as precious and important as Harry Potter.

Her eyes scanned the map of Surrey, searching for another address in hopes that she merely went to the wrong house. Her ears twitched hearing the man- Vernon Dursley- exit the home and get into his car. As he drove past the street corner where she sat, he glanced out the window at her. Looking away for a moment having not processed what he had seen immediately and giving McGonagall time to quickly vanish the map from sight before he could do a double take.

The large man's beady eyes stayed trained on her as he rounded the corner and began to drive off. McGonagall rolled her own eyes and muttered under her breath about oblivious muggles before looking up at the sign that read "Privet Drive" in a rather dull text.

There was nothing special about the neighbourhood. It consisted simply of copies of the same house over and over with little changes between them. The consistent lack of anything defining bored the Hogwarts professor nearly to tears and she trotted closer to the home with a simple "4" on a plaque. She could still hear the young boy crying inside, and Petunia's attempts at bribing the boy into calming down.

"These two are dreadful as parents… What in the name of Merlin does Albus see in them?!" McGonagall yowled in protest to the headmasters decision on leaving the boy with this couple. Lily and James Potter would have been beside themselves if they knew what he had planned. She sighed sadly, thinking of the deceased couple. They were truly too young to have-

"Get! Go on! Get away from my home you nasty flea-ridden thing!" McGonagall suddenly found herself the target of a multitude of flying objects thrown by a disgusted Petunia. The muggle pursed her lips so tightly the tabby almost worried for the woman's face. That is until she stomped over to the window On which McGonagall was perched with a broom in her hands, brandishing it threateningly. McGonagall hissed at the rude muggle woman, tempted to transform and scold her on her ghastly behaviour, but thought otherwise and leapt away, bounding off into the neighbor's garden.

"That was certainly eventful…" She hissed to herself, turning and finding a hiding place among the shrubbery where she could watch the muggles. She decided to herself that she would stay and watch for a while, to decide if these two were worthy of caring for Harry Potter.

The next few hours were dreadfully long and tedious. Minerva watched the muggle woman titter about on spindly legs all day, cleaning and fawning over her spoiled son. She cleaned far too much in Minerva's opinion. Now she appreciated a clean home, and even more a clean classroom, but this was simply too much! She wrinkled her nose, the markings on her face distorting. A strong chemical cleaner smell assaulted her senses and she sorely wished to change back to a human form if only to be free from the strong sense of smell her animagus form gave her.

Her ears twitched and she turned to face the sound of a rumblin car pulling into the driveway. Vernon Dursley had finally arrived home, looking anxious and annoyed. Minerva watched him carefully, as he got out of his car and began to waddle to his door. He froze, spotting her. His small eyes narrowed and he waved his briefcase at her. Was he trying to scare her? After the war this muggle could only dream of scaring her.

"Shoo!" He bellowed, waving around in a rather undignified manner.

Minerva glared at him sternly, refusing to move again for these muggles. She ran once from his wife, for convenience sake, but not to anyone else. Vernon grimaced, looking unnerved by Minerva's refusal to budge. Huffing to himself, he continued into his home.

Minerva frowned, listening with annoyance to the muggles discuss the potter family with harsh hateful tones. They clearly detested the family and that concerned the tabby dearly. They wouldn't be so giving as to put aside their hatred to the magical family they had and care for Harry as one of their own. There was no way. These muggles were too set in their ways. Normalcy was the only thing they sought and treasure. Harry being a wizard would be too much of a disruption to their perfectly normal lives.

"I can't allow Albus to leave him here. It'd be senseless!" She hissed.

Throughout the night Minerva watched the corner of Privet Drive. Waiting impatiently for the headmaster to show up so she might speak against the family she had the displeasure of watching.

It's not that she disliked muggles. She didn't. On the contrary she found them at times endearing and clever people with inventions that fascinated her! She simply disliked _these_ muggles. The kind of people who hated anything that didn't agree with them and their way of living. Whenever Vernon peaked through a window at her she had to force herself to not hiss at him.

She heard the loud pop that signalled Dumbledore's arrival. The headmaster appeared in no subtle manner- dressed in long colourful robes and a long purple cloak. His high heeled buckled boots clicked with his every step toward the house, seemingly loud in the quiet of the still neighbourhood. His crescent moon spectacles threatened to fall from his crooked nose and he rummaged through his robes, muttering to himself. Minerva approached him, leaping from the garden wall and padding over to him quietly.

Having felt her eyes on him, the old man looked up, and smiled gently at the cat.

"I should have known." He chucked quietly. He removed what appeared to be a small silver lighter and clicked it, removing the light from the lampposts one by one until Privet Drive was cloaked in an eerie darkness. Minerva quickly used this time to change from her cat form to her normal human body.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

"You may cut the chit chat Albus." She snapped, ruffled and in a bad mood. "Just what are you planning on doing here?" She demanded. Dumbledore Raised an eyebrow, though he wasn't surprised by her tone.

"You already know, Minerva." He sighed. "I am here to drop off young Harry with his Aunt and uncle." Minerva snarled at this, much to his expectations.

"These people?! You can't be serious!"

"They are the only family he has left Minerva."

Minerva was beyond fed up, family was no proper reason to sentence this boy to a life such as the one the muggles offered. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!" She screeched, Carib far less now about waking the muggles.

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

Minerva blanched at this.

"A letter? A _letter?!_ " She hissed. "Now I _know_ you're crazy! Albus you can't believe that these people would follow whatever it is you wrote! And even if they did, a _letter_ is no way to convey this to them! It's terrible and insensitive! Not that they care, they'd probably actually prefer the letter to seeing anyone like us!"

"He'll be much better off with them then growing up knowing he's famous. Famous at such a young age! Can you imagine it Minerva?"

"He can live a better life somewhere else! He can live sheltered with someone else! Not these horrible-"

A low rumbling sound nearing them snapped Minerva out of her rampage. She whirled toward the sound, cautious after years of fighting, war, and suspicions.

"What is that?!" She hissed to Dumbledore quietly. The man smiled at the professor, peering at her over his glasses.

"That would be Hagrid. Bringing the boy."

" _Hagrid?_ Sir, do you really think that it's _wise_ to trust Hagrid w-" Dumbledore raised a hand, cutting her off.

"I trust Hagrid with my life."

"His heart may be in the right place, but you can't deny-"

The quiet rumbling grow to a loud deafening roar, silencing both quickly as the source came crashing to a land before them. McGonagall stepped back, shocked that Hagrid came on a motorcycle of all things! She glanced around, checking if anyone had come out of their homes to check on the disruption.

She then turned a sharp glare on the monsterously huge man who was dismounting the bike. His bushy hair and beard nearly obscured his face but she still found herself able to glare upon it.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir ," said the giant man, trying to wipe exhaust, dust and bugs from his wild mane of hair as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"  
Dumbledore asked, as Minerva opened her mouth to protest most likely the method of travel Hagrid chose.

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." He explained, going on and quietly chattering about the ride, despite the two pairs of ears that weren't quite listening anymore-distracted by the bundle Hagrid passed to the older wizard.

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a  
tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously, shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. She had never seen such a scar before in all her time.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." Minerva eyed him.

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well anyway, we'd better get this over with."

"Get this _over with?!_ " McGonagall snarled, beyond disgusted by how Dumbledore was handling this.

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Minerva. Please."

"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid, stepping between them, sensing the tension. Dumbledore held out the child to him, allowing Hagrid to place. Scratchy kiss on the boys head. As Dumbledore pulled him back to him, turning to the door of 4 Privet Drive, Hagrid bursts into tears, his howls of sorrow causing Minerva to whirl on him and snap.

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, filthy handkerchief and burying his soot covered, tear stained face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -"

Minerva narrowed her eyes on Dumbledore.

"Yes, his living situation certainly is a reason for sadness. Perhaps we could change that? Dumbledore?" She said suggestively. Albus turned a stern eye on her, silencing the infuriated witch.

"You'll understand someday Minerva." He said in a soft, serious voice. He placed Harry down on the doorstep, and nearly placed the letter to the Dursley family on top of him, charming it so it wouldn't be blown away.

"Good luck little one." He whispered to Harry, before standing up and walking back to the Privet drive sign, and vanishing without a trace.

Hagrid threw a leg over the bike, ready to take off again when he saw Minerva still staring down at Harry.

"Professor McGonagall? Somefin' wron?" He called to her. She turned to him. A finger pressed her lips in a demand for silence. Sighing she looked back at Harry.

"Not for long. We'll get him out of here. I promise you child, you won't be forced to stay with these muggles for long."

* * *

I believe you all see what I mean about the dialogue? While I'm making it myself, no copy and paste here or anything, I'm taking a lot of it from the books. It's just for the first few chapters, not long so I apologise for it.

Also, Hagrid's accent is hard to write...

anyway, please R&R, tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Time for chapter two! I'm having a lot more fun with this than I thought I would. It gives me an excuse to reread Harry Potter after all!

Please review! I would love some criticism to better improve this story!

(Also there's an author note down below for whoever is interested)

Enjoy!

* * *

A tiny boy lay awake in his miserable excuse for a bed, staring at the ceiling to his tiny room under the stairs with his bright green eyes.

He could hear his housemates moving around already, his aunt's tittering steps and his uncle's thudding steps. Her annoying chirps and snaps, his bellows and muttering. He sighed quietly, reluctant to leave the cramped space they had given him.

"Vernon darling, do make sure Duddlykins is getting ready to go out. I know he wants to sleep but we really must start getting ready!"

"Of course Petunia."

As much as he hated the small cupboard under the stairs, he hated the people waiting outside his small slice of peace. Vernon and Petunia were no real family of his he felt. He held no love for these people.

"Up! Get up!" Petunia began rapping on the door with a bony hand, and Harry rolled his eyes. Her screeching meant nothing to him. He simply looked over to the door and waited for her to explain why she was 'waking him up'.

Harry was used to yelling and screaming being what woke him. He stopped expecting peace and rest long ago. He knew that getting restful sleep was unrealistic. He didn't have the chance to relax, sleep was simply a way to recharge and escape the Dursleys for a while.

"Now! Aren't you up yet?!" Harry took a deep breath, as ready to face them as he could be.

"Yes Aunt Petunia. I'm up." He called out to her through the cupboard door.

After listening to his aunt screech and hiss about getting ready for Dudley's birthday, and how he was expected to make everything perfect for it he sighed in defeat and prepared himself for the day, dressing and putting on his old glasses that the Dursleys bought him years ago. They were broken in several places and taped up in an attempt to get more use out of them, but honestly Harry was just happy that Vernon even got them for him in the first place.

Walking briskly past his aunt, Harry went right to the kitchen where he prepared breakfast for the others. He ignored Petunia and Vernon's worrying and chatting about the 'beloved birthday boy' and his 'special day' in favour of thinking over the dream he had that night. It was an odd one, though he found himself often repeating it.

The idea of flying motorcycles and talking cats filled his mind and distracted Harry from the blaring fact that there was no sign he even lived in the home aside from the contents of his cupboard. Pictures of a fat, blond boy littered the home, but none of himself. Regardless of his affections-or lack there of- for the family who reluctantly housed him, it still hurt to be reminded of just how unwanted he was in this home.

"Comb your hair!" Vernon suddenly barked, glaring at Harry for a moment before returning his attention to the newspaper in his hands. Harry rolled his eyes and ignored his uncle. He could complain all he wanted- Harry's hair did whatever it pleased and listened to no one- it was much braver than Harry himself.

"Yes uncle Vernon." He called, knowing that nodding and agreeing to whatever fell from their mouths was safer for him than anything else, though he often had to be careful to calm himself before opening his mouth.

"Mummy? Daddy?"

"Diddykins!"

"Good morning my boy!"

Dudley entered the room then- a miniature Vernon and twice as insufferable. Harry held in a groan when the blond boy started howling about his inadequate amount of presents. Truly this boy didn't understand anything about not being a prat. But Harry held back his comments, not wanting to be punched again by his cousin. He never had to worry about his aunt and uncle hitting him anymore, something always stopped them from following through when they made to strike them. They just starved him or made him work instead. Unfortunately for Harry however, Dudley held no qualms about physical assault and often made Harry his personal punching bag. At home, school, didn't matter.

"I got more last tiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!" Dudley wailed. "You h-h-h-HATE ME!"

"Oh Duddlykins no! Mummy and Daddy don't hate you!"

"Not even a little bit! You're such a good lad, how could we ever hate you?"

"Oh my little Darling boy, how about we do this-"

Petunia and Vernon gushed over their son, attempting to calm the boy who was pretending to wail in sorrow. Harry rolled his eyes, shoveling food in his mouth quickly before his cousin decided to take it out on him. Dudley didn't even have any tears on his face. The entire ordeal was a farce! How could his aunt and uncle not notice? They never seemed to notice when Harry cried, so was it just that they were bad with tears? Harry shook his head slightly. Even he wouldn't be so stupid as to believe that. They probably just don't care to notice. With both boys not just Harry.

Eventually the two managed to calm Dudley with promises of two additional presents when the phone rang. Petunia answered it quickly, but her smile quickly dropped into a scowl as she angrily chirped to whoever the poor caller was. He looked away, setting his curiosity to the side and quickly eating his breakfast. The fact that he managed to eat so long undisturbed was rare and he wasn't going to question it or throw it away just to see who she was talking to. Harry knew Petunia would stomp over to Vernon and tell him anyway, so why bother rushing in if he could just listen in later.

"Broke your leg? But can't you-yes I realise that you must be busy with that, but we have plans and-oh it's just a leg! Do you really need time to yourself? It's not like he'll go anywhere!-of course. Fine. Have a good day."

Petunia slammed the phone on the receiver, stomping over to Vernon just as Harry predicted she would, and jerked her head in Harry's direction. Apparently the old woman who they usually pawned him off onto was unavailable. Harry almost felt bad for the woman, Miss Figg, but then he remembered her forcing him to listen to her stories about her cats the last time he was left there and no longer had such feelings.

The two argued over what to do with Harry, and between Dudley's fake sobs and wails and the doorbell ringing they reluctantly came to a decision that Harry was able to appreciate, even if it made his family miserable- Harry would be joining them to the zoo.

...

For once Harry was actually smiling, sitting excitedly in the back of the Dursley's new car with Dudley and Dudley's best friend from school. They two openly spoke of their distaste for Harry and his presence, but the smallest boy couldn't bring himself to care at all about their moaning and groaning. Their complaints didn't matter, their insults weren't listened to, and their punches didn't hurt. Not even his Uncle Vernon's threats of starvation and beatings should Harry ruin this occasion in any way shape or form could dampen his mood. It's not like the threats were anything special anyway. The very least Vernon could have done was spice up the ones Harry was so used to for an event such as this! Starvation was nothing to Harry anymore, he was used to hardly eating at this point, and as for the beatings, his uncle wouldn't dare hurt him physically. He wasn't sure why of course, they had no problems with any other kind of mistreatment, but he knew that the most they would do is allow Dudley to have a go at Harry. This didn't bother him much either, as he could always outrun his much larger cousin or even better outsmart him at times.

This was his first time to the zoo after all! Well, one could argue it was his first time anywhere special to be honest. The Dursleys his Harry even more than Dudley his sweets or his grades. Nothing could ruin this day, not Dudley, not Vernon, not Petunia and certainly not any of those strange occurrences that often plagued Harry.

So far the day was going wonderfully, and Harry was jubilant. The Dursleys has -reluctantly- purchased an ice cream for Harry at the zoo, and at another point even allowed him to finish one of Dudley's desserts! He followed them closely through the Zoo and quietly admired the many animals with awe. At one point The Dursleys had stopped in front of a large exhibit with giraffes and elephants and Harry, shocked at how similar the animals were to Petunia and Vernon respectively, vowed to himself to try and accompany the Dursleys on their outings more often. As ghastly as they were, the places they went were fun and exciting.

After lunch is when it all went downhill. Harry wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. He should have known that things would go wrong. As they always do.

The group had ventured into the reptile house, and were eagerly looking at all the lizards and snakes when they came across a huge snake. The biggest in the house, and Dudley was beyond ecstatic. Or at least he was at first. When the magnificent snake refused to move at his demand and his father's rapping on the glass, Dudley had promptly given up on the snake, storming off in a huff with Vernon close behind.

Harry glared at them as they left the area, and turned to the snake. It's coils glistened a lovely shade of brown that Harry imagined helped with blending into the foliage and branches in the exhibit. Harry oddly found himself jealous of this ability, but shook it off. He sighed and told the snake that he was sorry about his family, despite the fact that he knew it wouldn't understand. However that's when the surprises began. To his utter delight the snake rose up eye to eye with Harry, and began to roll it's eyes and shake her head. As if exclaiming that it was used to the annoying attention.

Harry smiled and began to chat to the boa constrictor, asking it about where it came from among other things when Dudley's friend shouted from behind him, prompting Dudley to rush over and roughly shove Harry to the floor to look at the snake. The boa tried to peer past its enclosure to see Harry, as of checking to see if the boy was alright. Harry turned a harsh glare onto the boys, wishing he could get them back for the attack, but knowing there was nothing he could do against the two bigger and stronger boys.

Suddenly the glass that separated the Boa and the two onlooking boys vanished, without a trace. The snake took advantage of the missing barrier and quickly lurched forward, out of the tank. It practically grinned at Harry, tongue slipping out a moment as if tasting freedom.

"Brazil here I come!" It declared in a hissing voice that Harry couldn't believe he was actually hearing. Perhaps he'd finally gone mad? Did Dudley hit him in the head one too many times? He'd go to a doctor to check but was certain the Dursley's wouldn't bother taking him to see one in the first place. He stared wide eyed at the snake, mouth hanging open. "Thanksssss boy. Good luck with your own cage." The snake bowed it's head to him before slithering away as quickly as it could, albeit taking a moment here and there to lurch out and frighten zoo-goers and letting out a hissy laugh.

While Harry was quite glad with the Boa's escape and thoroughly amazed by the talking snake-and a little concerned for his mental health- as he sat in his cupboard hungry he almost wished it never happened. Vernon had taken no time in punishing Harry for the impossible act, even though Harry had nothing to do with it.

Harry sighed, his stomach growling urgently. These punishments came as no surprise, and The young boy was nearly used to it by now, but he still hated being starved. Being used to something didn't make it any less unpleasant. At least let him do something to deserve the punishment! It's not his fault the glass vanished! How could he even do it?! It was like it vanished by magic! But of course telling Uncle Vernon that didn't lessen the punishment at all. Ten long miserable years on this punishment hadn't made the punishment any better. It only made him better at dealing with the punishments and learning how to bare with them. Harry used to dream of being saved, of leaving the Dursleys cruelty and finding a family that loves him. However like so many other things the Dursleys destroyed that dream. Harry knew it wasn't realistic.

No one was coming to save him. No one cared about the tiny boy with outrageous black hair who lived under the stairs in the Dursley's home. No one cared about Harry Potter.

* * *

This chapter feels so fuckin short it's driving me crazy. I feel like the others I'm workin on go one forever but then this is just like 'meh'. I swear I spent a good deal writing this chapter miserable. Making Harry suffer isn't fun. I don't like doing it to my own characters but Harry isn't mine, so I have no room to decide anything really. His past is what makes him who he is.

Anywho, I'm thinking about having someone adopt Harry. I kinda implied it with McGonagall in chapter one already.

If Harry were Gryffindor I'd automatically assume McGonagall or The Weasley family, but in Slytherin that friendship won't develop.

So I'm thinking of taking a poll!

Who do you guys think he should be adopted by?

Note: it wouldn't be prevalent for a while, maybe really just book two, but I'd have to start developing the connection between Parent and Child so I need to decide on it soon.

McGonagall?

Snape?

Malfoy family? (Though being Draco's adoptive brother would be upsetting. It is a Drarry story after all!)

Someone else completely?

Tell me in the comments/reviews please!


	3. Chapter 3

I fucking love this.

I'm having so much fun.

I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am!

Though I do feel bad making Harry miserable. How the hell does JKR do it.

Note: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.

* * *

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. And that, he felt, was quite the feat. He was no stranger to punishments so he felt he had the experience to hedge. When the Dursleys had finally allowed him to go out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and school was over. Harry was pleased that school had ended, but unfortunately this led to it being open season for hunting Harry. The small boy found that he was spending most of his time hiding from his cousin and Dudley's just as mean friends.

Dudley seemed to be bored this summer, searching for any excuse that he could find to make Harry miserable. The latest was the fact that the Dursleys has signed Harry up for Stonewall Public School while he was accepted into Smeltings. Smeltings was a 'high end' private school that Uncle Vernon attended back in his day as a student. When Dudley was accepted Vernon rambled on and on about how great it was, and how it shaped his life for the better. Stonewall however was a free school, paid for by taxes rather than admission. It was low-ranking and about as sketchy as you could imagine. Dudley was sure to tell Harry all the horror stories about the school that he could think of, despite never have been there himself.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry, leering at him with a dark smirk that Harry would normally take as a sign that it was time to leave. "Want to come upstairs and practice?" He cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner

Harry turned to Dudley, not bothering to hide his bemused expression as he stared at his bully of a cousin.

"No, thanks," said Harry, confidence surging. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said, which luck would have it was nearly a couple minutes, giving Harry a proper head start.

July had been filled with talk of uniforms and Smeltings. Dudley took to wearing his uniform at all times-much to Vernon's absolute delight- and hitting Harry with the Smeltings stick he carried everywhere with him.

Dudley banged his Smelting stick on the table, demanding attention as if he wasn't smothered by it already. He ranted and raved, demanding his mother make him some kind of sweet. Harry at this point wasn't paying attention, as Dudley he felt wasn't worth his full focus. Luckily Dudley didn't feel the need to try and attract his attention, and was fully focused on making his mother bend to his will instead. Harry instead starred off into space, thinking over a dream he had the previous night. His usual recurring dream-A flying motorcycle soaring over England and a bright green light in the distance behind it. When he snapped out of his daydream, the Dursleys were talking about the mail, which apparently arrived while Harry wasn't focused.

"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon grumbled from behind his paper, the blonde hairs of his mustache twitching.

Dudley frowned, looking properly offended that his father asked him to complete this act. It didn't matter that it was a dull and easy chore, just that his father dared to order HIM to do it over his cousin. He glanced at Harry sharply, before glaring at his father.

"Make Harry get it. He's not even doing anything."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it." Harry tried, figuring it was worth a shot. It hasn't worked yet of course in nearly eleven years but hey, 394th times the charm right? Vernon glanced at Harry over the paper quickly, a sharp glare telling Harry that no, 394 was most certainly _not_ the charm.

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Having expected such an outcome, Harry dodged the Smelting stick expertly and trudged out of the kitchen to get the mail. Three things lay on the too-clean and pristine doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge(who Harry didn't like, but what kind of news was that. It's not like it mattered, she didn't like him either.), an envelope that looked like a bill-so of course Harry didn't care about that-, and - a letter for Harry.

Harry picked it up and stared at the large thick parchment envelope with big eyes. He felt as if his heart might have stopped in his chest. He placed a hand to it, to check and see if he had actually died and this was some kind of heaven. He-thankfully-was still alive. Thank goodness for that as well, can you imagine a heaven where Harry still lived with the Dursleys, but at least received some things from the post on occasion? Harry mentally made the decision to raise his standards a tad, and refocused on the letter. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He was just unwanted and unloved Harry Potter. No friends, no other family. The Dursleys were his entire world he thought to himself rather pathetically. As much as he hated them, without them taking him in he'd be in some orphanage. Alone, probably still unwanted. No one wants the child of a drunk after all. That's what the Dursleys told him again and again. Bright emerald ink shined from the letter, the writing immaculate and beautiful:

Mr. H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

The letter suddenly felt heavy in his hands. There was no doubt that if any of the three Dursleys saw this they would take it from him. Or at least he assumed they would. Though he had no experience in receiving mail, he knew that that Dursleys often did whatever they could to make him unhappy.

They would probably give his letter to Dudley… Just to read, mock, and tear apart. Harry grew fiercely determined and shook his head. No. Not this time, this time he'd keep what was given to him.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing out there?!"

Quickly sliding his letter into his cupboard through a crack on the side, Harry went back to the kitchen and handed him the remaining two.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia, who tried amiably to fake sympathy for her rather unlovable sister-in-law. "Ate a funny whelk. -."

They spoke back and forth for a while, and Harry sat quietly in his seat, knobby knees banging together as he struggled to keep from racing to his cupboard to see what his letter read.

He eyed the Dursleys quietly through his broken glasses. He really didn't want to wait all day to read the letter. And aunt Petunia had a list of chores for him that she was writing out right now. There wasn't much choice for Harry. He had a way of getting back to his cupboard, and it was an unfortunate one.

He took a deep breath and looked at Dudley, stuffing his face with bacon. The boy was still wearing the ridiculous school uniform his mother bought for him earlier. He let out a little snicker, pretending to disguise it as a cough and looked away from his cousin. Dudley glared at Harry, cheeks stuffed.

"What are you laughing at?!" He demanded, food spluttering from his lips. Harry inwardly smirked. He took the bait.

"A stuffed sausage is all. Don't worry." He replied, making sure that his staged whisper was just loud enough for Vernon to hear. Dudley frowned, looking confused.

"Sausage isn't funny potter." He snapped, expecting Harry to agree and be quiet. Harry however had other plans.

"It is when it talks and wears orange knickerbockers!" He whispered, laughing again as Dudley's face turned bright red.

"DADDY!" He wailed, turning on the fake, tear-less wails and smacking Harry with his trusty Smeltings stick.

Holding back Harry's grin was proving to be difficult as Vernon dragged Harry by his shirt collar to his cupboard. He was grateful that after all these years with the Dursleys, him knowing how to get sent to his cupboard was finally coming in handy. Though if he knew that one day he'd be looking forward to being locked away in the small hole in the wall he'd probably be amazed.

"NO MEALS. FOR A WEEK!" Vernon roared yanking open the cupboard door shoving Harry inside. He slammed the cupboard door, locking Harry inside. Harry didn't really care. He could sneak out while they were asleep and steal food. He instead focused on the letter.

He lightly traced the beautiful green ink with gentle fingers. The writing was absolutely beautiful. He stared at the address awhile. Whoever sent the letter knew Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs, something that the Dursleys kept secret. He turned it over, staring at the purple wax seal with awe. A crest of a lion, snake, badger and Raven surrounded a letter 'H' in the center. Harry slid his finger under the fold, to break the seal and open the envelope.

"WHAT'S THAT YOU HAVE?!" Vernon suddenly bellowed, causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. The door was flung open and the red face of his Uncle peaked in. Harry tried to throw the letter deep in the cupboard to keep Vernon from getting to it, but sadly he was too late.

"I knew you were up to something!" He snarled, snatching the letter away. "Steal our mail did you?!"

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back. "I haven't stolen anything! It's addressed to me!"

Vernon held it out of his reach, sneering at the small boy cruelly.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than Harry could believe possible.

"Petunia!" he called, voice shaking and face draining. Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach much to Dudley's complete outrage. When she arrived in the hall, she eyed them all cautiously, as if deciding whether to step into the fuss or not, before taking it curiously and read the first line. Harry was shocked that she didn't faint on the spot after seeing Vernon's reaction. She clutched her throat and made a sharp choking noise that sounded similar to a dying bird.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored, and clearly wasn't going to stand for it any longer. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly. Harry turned and glared fiercely at him.

"You can't! It's mine!"

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move. Dudley simply reached out further, hand right in his father's pale face.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" Harry shouted, willing himself to be brave and stand up to Vernon.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley, shoving himself in front of Harry and holding out his hand expectantly.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their shirts and threw them into the hall, slamming the  
kitchen door behind them. Harry was used to being manhandled, and stood up, immediately rushing to the door. Dudley was frozen a moment, having never been handled with anything other than love before, but steeled himself and raced after Harry. Harry and Dudley fought over who would listen at the keyhole; unfortunately Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from his face and green eyes glaring fiercely at his cousin, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, that honestly annoyed Harry, hiding on The other side of the door. "look at the address - how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. Harry frowned, listening to his uncle rave like a mad man.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."

"But -"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

Harry grimaced, slinking back into his cupboard before he could get caught.

That evening was the start to a hellish time. The Dursley family home had been assaulted by the letters, coming in large groups and seemingly followed the family no matter where they went.

They had stayed in hotels all over Surrey in an attempt to escape the letters, dragging Harry along with them. They even at times left the province, desperately trying to escape the rain of envelopes that followed. Harry personally felt that letting him have one already would solve this whole issue much faster. This whole situation was beyond ridiculous to him. He knew they didn't care about him at all, but Dudley was miserable about the travel and constantly whined and demanded to go home. Each demand was met with Petunia softly murmuring to him about how they'd go home later, and for him to enjoy the sight-seeing they were doing. If he refused and yelled at Vernon, he was met with sharp barks and annoyed ramblings of someone slowly going crazy. Harry shook his head to himself. Giving him a letter already would be much more preferable he felt, than now sitting here on the dirty, stained wood floor in this small house, no...perhaps 'shack' was a better word for the shelter that Vernon found for the family- in the middle of the stormy sea.

The shack was old and worn down, holes in the walls and roof letting rain and wind into the two rooms of the building. Harry could swear he felt the fierce wind moving the walls and causing the shelter to sway.

He glared at Dudley who was sleeping on the lone couch, snoring loudly. Perhaps in a minute when it was his birthday he'd wake him up. Just to annoy him. It would serve him right. Harry felt that it was only fair-who whatever reason- to place all the blame on his cousin.

BOOM

The shack trembled and Harry jerked upright so quickly he felt something in his neck crack.

BOOM

Something was outside, knocking on the door.

* * *

I'm going to be honest, I don't really want Hagrid taking Harry to Diagon Alley. I kinda want someone else to… But WHO.

It's not that I don't like him, I love him. He's so sweet and caring and makes such an effort to be good to the students. He's the first one to show Harry kindness and I adore him for that. But still, I would like some other character development to kick in. I want to get creative with the writing from here on, and with how I'm plotting everything out it's been hard. I really wanted to stick to the book for the first four or five chapters, but I want to do my own thing, you know.

Anyway, I'm having a hard time writing Hagrid. His voice is hard to type up.

Oh well I'll get through it!

Please review and let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Enter Hagrid!

I love this character so damn much, and I don't want Harry being placed in Slytherin to change their friendship.

I still want someone else taking Harry shopping, but then who would give Harry Hedwig?

The struggle! Anyway, this is the longest chapter so far. At least 4000 words, I'll figure it out after typing it up fully.

Please review and tell me what you think!

I don't own Harry Potter or it's characters!

* * *

 _BOOM_

The third thunderous knock jolted Dudley awake and he sat up, whirling around while yelling something stupid about a cannon that Harry didn't bother acknowledge.

Uncle Vernon then came crashing into the room-nearly slipping on the wet wooden floor- holding a rifle in his terribly shaking hands. Harry eyed it suspiciously, wondering when his uncle had brought that along-and if he would actually use it or not.

"Who's there?!" He yelled, his voice as shaky as his hands. "I'm armed!"

Whatever was on the other side of the door didn't really seem to care about that fact, not that Harry could blame it. Just it's knocking alone was enough to shake the very foundation of the house like it was a blade of grass in the wind.

SMASH!

The door practically flew off its hinges then, crashing onto the floor in a cloud of wood dust, rain, and mist from the outside storm.

Harry looked out into the darkness and froze in fear. A giant man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, messy mane of dark hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his dark eyes from beneath the hair.

The giant wiggled his way into the shack. He bent down, picked up the door, and placed it easily back into its frame, muttering something that sounded like an apology and weak wood. The shack was filled with a tense silence, none of the occupants wanting to anger the new comer.

"Could one o' yeh make us a cup o' tea? It's not been an easy journey... 'Specially wit' this storm and all." The man said as he strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. Dudley nearly screamed at his approach and ran to his mother and father, hiding behind them even though they shook with obvious fear and were just as-if not even more scared- than they were. The giant looked around a moment as he sat down. When he spotted Harry, he light up like a Christmas tree, dark eyes twinkling.

"An' here's Harry!" proclaimed the giant in a booming voice. Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the huge man was smiling brightly at him. It was then that Harry decided that he rather liked it when someone said his name with something other than rage or disgust. It was a change of pace that he readily accepted.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant, looking reminiscent. "Yeh look a lot like yer dad fer sure, but yeh've got yet mom's eyes. Lilly would be proud, she would."

Stunned, Harry reached up and touched his own face softly, thinking this over. So this man knew his parents? Personally? His emerald eyes stayed tracked on the giant man and he thought about this. Perhaps this man could help him escape the Dursleys?

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise, tearing Harry's attention from the friendly giant to the purple man standing in the corner. Harry held back a sigh. His uncle looked extremely unimpressive cowering over there.

"I demand you leave at once!" he said, trying to force his voice to be steady and failing miserably. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Shut up Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant. The man reached back and roughly yanked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's trembling hands. It looked as if Vernon had tried to keep a grip on it but wasn't able to even hold a candle to the giant's strength. He looked at the rifle in amused disgust before he quickly bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of string. He glanced over at Harry, as if seeing if the boy was scared-or impressed-and threw it into a corner of the room.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being stepped on. Harry smirked at his uncle for a quick second. His big bad bully of an uncle. Who had made Harry miserable for eleven years now, was getting a taste of his own medicine.

"Anyway - Harry," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys and recapturing the boys attention.

"A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."  
From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box white box sealed and held together by a slightly tattered pink ribbon. Harry opened it with trembling fingers, careful not to damage the ribbon or the box-unlike his cousin who always tore through his gifts, leaving a terrible mess for Harry to clean. Harry inwardly shook away this thought. Now wasn't the time for comparing his cousin to himself. Inside was a large, slightly squished but mostly intact chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in bright green icing.

"I haven' seen yeh in what, ten years? So I wasn' sure what ta make yeh. But I figure chocolate is a safe bet." The man explained, smiling at Harry kindly. Harry was completely speechless, having lost his ability to speak due to the surge of emotions rioting in his small body. "If yeh prefer 'nother kind I can make another."

Harry looked up at the giant, fighting back tears at the first cake he ever received. He shook his head and opened his mouth to thank the man, and tell him that chocolate was absolutely perfect, but what he said instead was;

"Who are you?"  
Harry inwardly cursed his slip of the tongue, he should be polite to this man who so kindly brought him a birthday cake. The giant chuckled, his gentle smile seemed to know what Harry wanted to say.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's whole arm enthusiastically. Normally Harry would have acknowledged the slight twinge of pain this caused but instead smiled and allowed himself to be shaken, completely taken with this giant man. As suspicious as Harry often was of strangers he couldn't help but smile brightly and openly.

"Now about that tea then, eh?" Hagrid said expectantly. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

Hagrid looked around the hut, probably searching for a kettle of some sort, but upon finding none he turned his attention to the fireplace. He leaned towards it and before they knew what he had done a huge roaring fire occupied the damp stone fireplace.

Hagrid leaned back. Settling back into the couch with a sigh. He seemed to allow the fire to warm him a moment, before going through the pockets of his enormous coat. Harry could hardly believe what he pulled out; a copper kettle, a slightly squashed package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a quick sip of before starting to make tea.

Harry hadn't been allowed outside too much during his years at the Dursleys home so he couldn't be 100% certain l, however he could soundly believe that he was least 99% certain that all these were things that most people didn't carry around willy nilly!

The Dursleys remained silent as the dead as Hagrid cooked up the sausages and boiled water for tea. Dudley started to inch his way closer to the fire, the smell of the juicy-although a little burnt- sausages luring him closer. Uncle Vernon reached out and clamped a hand on his shoulder, snatching his son away and trying to warn him in a hushed whisper about eating anything that Hagrid offered him.

Hagrid snorted with laughter, shooting them a dark look.

"Don' you worry Dursley. Yer son don' need fattenin'. Boy looks like he's 'ad one too many puddin's as it is." He instead passed them to Harry, smiling kindly. Harry gratefully accepted the food, feeling no reason to distrust what he offered. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all. Harry shoveled one into his mouth, almost moaning with delight at the delicious taste. It had been so long since Harry had anything to eat, and even slightly burnt the sausage was perfect. Hagrid chuckled at his eager eating, and turned to the kettle to check the water. Seeing it was warm, he poured some into a mug and began to enjoy his cuppa.

After enjoying a sausage and passing on an offered mug of tea, Harry looked at Hagrid, quietly studying him.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I don't really know who you are." He said in as strong a voice as he could muster. The man seemed kind, and he knew Harry's parents! But still, it wasn't often at all that anyone showed kindness to him. And when they did things went badly for him in the end. He supposed he shouldn't let his guard down quite yet. People have proven to be good at lying and faking in the past, why should this man-Hagrid- be any different?

Hagrid didn't question his suspicion. Just smiled at him gently.

"Well, fer starters yeh can call me Hagrid. E'eryone does. So none o' this 'sir' nonsense!" He barked out a laugh before carrying on. "As I told yeh, I'm keeper of keys at Hogwarts. Basically a grounds keeper for the school-which I'm sure ye 'ave practically mem'rised by now-"

Harry made a screwed face, shaking his head.

"Er-no. I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." He said, trying to sound as polite as possible. Hagrid looked shocked and nearly spilled his tea. Harry, nervous about the change from kind and gentle to mildly outraged, tried to think of how to backtrack. Finding nothing, he looked away awkwardly. "Sorry…" He muttered.

"Sorry? Yeh don' need ta be sorry lad!" Hagrid exclaimed, earning Harry's attention once again, though the boy looked at him shyly, mostly cautious and unsure. Hagrid pointed a large finger at the Dursley family huddled in a corner. "It's them who should be sorry!" He boomed, making them-including Harry-flinch back deeper into the corner. "I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters, Dumbledore told me that, but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts! This is basic infermation! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?"

Harry bit his lower lip, eyebrows creasing. Learned it all? The only thing that he knew about his parents was that his father was drunk driving-an apparent habit of his- and crashes the car, killing them both.

"Learned what?"

"LEARNED WHAT?!" Hagrid roared, leaping to his feet with an earth shaking thud. Harry flinched back, unsure what to do. He, of course, made the man who had been kind to him angry! Perhaps he was always this angry? Maybe he was just done faking? He probably hates Harry for not knowing whatever it is he should apparently know... How could he think for even a second that this man would be kind enough to save him from-

"Do you mean to tell me that this boy-" Hagrid pointed at Harry as he cornered the Dursleys. " _This boy-_ knows NOTHIN' abou' ANYTHIN'?!" He roared. Harry frowned at them, annoyed by this comment.

"I don't know nothing, I've been to school." He snapped quietly, pride wounded. "My marks aren't bad either…" Hagrid shot a pitying look at the small boy who stood with his arms wrapped around himself, guarding himself from the people in the room. Harry flinched back at this. Pity wasn't something he wanted. Yes, he could use it. People who have before sometimes gave him scraps of food. But from someone who had been genuinely kind to him, pity burned.

"You don' know anythin' 'bout our world though, nothin' important." He said simply. Harry eyed him.

"Our world?"

"DURSLEY YEH ROTTEN-!" Hagrid thundered, looking right about ready to explode. Uncle Vernon mumbled something too quiet for Harry to hear before Hagrid spoke over him. "Tell me ye know 'bout'cher mum n' dad at least? I mean- they're famous! Yer famous!" He asked, looking desperate. Harry shook his head, feeling smaller and smaller now.

"They're famous? Why? I never heard anything about that."

Hagrid ran his hands through his hair, seemingly deliberating between imploding or exploding.

"Ye really don' know anythin'." He muttered, completely bewildered. "Ye don' know… What ye are?"

"Now stop right there!" Shouted uncle Vernon, apparently finding his voice. Harry groaned quietly, annoyed by this. "I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

Harry grimaced, glaring at Vernon. He had no right! There was so much that Harry didn't know, and terrifying or not this man was going to tell him!

Hagrid gave Vernon a fierce glare that would have startled braver men, and spoke slowly, as if to accommodate Vernon's lack of intelligence.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" Harry prodded, determined to learn everything the Dursleys neglected to tell him.

"I FORBID IT!" Roared Uncle Vernon, looking quite panicked. Aunt Petunia whimpered and hid behind her husband. Hagrid snapped some threat to the two of them and turned to Harry.

"Yer a wizard, Harry."

The silence that filled the hut was long and heavy.

"I- I'm a what?"

"A wizard! And once you've trained up you'd be a thumpin' good'un I'd wager!" Hagrid returned to the sofa, sitting down with a loud creak. "With parents like yers, yer practically bred for it!" He muttered something under his breath along the lines of "some people're gon' love that…" he rummaged through his pockets a moment, and fished out a slightly crinkled letter and handing it over to Harry.

Harry gingerly accepted the letter, taking it with gentle hands as if he was scared to shatter it. The shining green ink read;

Mr. H. Potter,  
The Floor,  
Hut-on-the-Rock,  
The Sea.

He pulled out the letter and began to read the elegant writing, emerald ink matching the envelope.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September first. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_  
 _Minerva McGonagall,_

 _Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
_

Harry stared at the paper, mind buzzing with questions that he was trying to sort out in his mind before sounding like a fool. He swallowed hard, and looked up at Hagrid.

"What do they mean, 'they await my owl'?" Hagrid smacked a large hand to his forehead, causing Harry to flinch at the sudden movement.

"Oh galloping Gorgons… Nearly bloody fergot!" He reached into another pocket inside his overcoat. He pulled out an owl - a very real, live, rather ruffled and seriously upset-looking owl - a long ruffled quill, and a roll of crinkled parchment.

The owl chirped with annoyance, shaking out its feathers and preening carefully. Harry could hardly tear his eyes away from the bird. When they said 'owl' Harry hadn't expected they meant a literal owl!

Hagrid pulled out some ink and set up a little writing station before him. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:

 _Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

 _Given Harry his letter._  
 _Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible._

 _Hope you're Well._

 _Hagrid_

Despite himself Harry couldn't help but admire his grammar, which was much more proper than how he spoke. Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, who accepted it in his beak before taking off into the storm.

Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.

"Pardon tha'. Should'a done that before. Anyway. Where was I?" said Hagrid.

"He's not going," said a very pale Vernon, who bravely stepped grunted, not impressed by this show of courage.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like yerself stop him," he said.

"A what?" said Harry, interested in this term. He could swear he's heard it before, but he couldn't place the meaning.

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call non-magic folk like 'em. An' it's yer bad luck ye grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid me eyes on." Hagrid glared at the Dursleys and sighed. "Professor McGonagall was right abou'em."

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, face turning purple again, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed! Not in my home!"

"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew I'm a - a wizard?" Rage began to build inside Harry. This explains how adamant they were about magic not being real, even going so far as to insult Harry about it when he spoke about dreams or movies.

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my oh so perfect deal of a sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that dreadful school-and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years. Harry could appreciate that, having anger and stress built up over the years. He had it too. However hearing her call his mother a 'freak' made his blood boil.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white, the red boiling blood in his face draining in an instant. Anger was still there, but his complete horror drowned it out.

"Blown up? _Blown up?!_ You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an'  
James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently. This man gave him all the answers he needed so far, he could get more from them he just knew it. _Harry was done being in the dark._

Hagrid pales, refusing to meet Harry's eyes.

"Er-well-ye see- This, I ne'er expected this… Ye were supposed to know all this, I had no  
idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh…" he fumbled for words for a moment, and sighed. "Later. A'right?" He asked.

Harry nodded, but was sure to not let this go. He needed answers.

Hagrid was watching him sadly, a strange admiring spark glimmered in his dark eyes however. Harry, instead of feeling pleased by all this new information felt completely certain that there had been a horrible mistake. He was thinking everything over that Hagrid said. A wizard? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being attacked by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; If he was a wizard, he should be able to protect himself with magic...Right?

"Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard." Harry desperately wished it was true. A little revenge on the Dursleys would suit him quite well. However it just...didn't seem true. No magic ever saved Harry before. Just like no one ever saved or helped him.

To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.  
"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Harry looked into the fire, thinking this over. Now that he mentioned it, every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he had been upset or angry... He thought over a few prime examples, mainly involving Dudley and his harassment.

The Boa Constrictor!

Harry looked up at Hagrid and gave him a small, nervous smile, comforted by Hagrid's beaming back at him.

"See? Knew ye'd see it."

Uncle Vernon stepped forward once again, courage presenting itself once more. Harry had to hand it to the man, he was very brave.

Or possibly very stupid.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it! I'll never pay for this! Not a single penny, pence, or pound! I've read those letters! I've seen the lists! Bloody boy needs all sorts of rubbish that no doubt would end me- spell books and wands and -"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid, leering at the man. Harry decided then that Vernon was probably more stupid than brave. Sometimes bravery got you in more trouble than necessary. "Stop Lily an' James Potter' s son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer absolutely mad if yeh think ye can. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had; Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!"

But as Vernon yelled this, Harry could tell he had gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head like a baton.

"NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of light, a sound like a whip, a sharp pig-like squeal, and the next second, Dudley was howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. He stifled a dark laugh, not wanting to upset his family further.

Uncle Vernon cried out in complete and utter horror. Pulling a wailing Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard, deep in thought.

"Meant to turn 'im into a full pig… Guess it's pro'lly good it didn't work though." Harry lost it then, doubling over with laughter. Hagrid glanced at him, and chuckled, looking like he wasn't regretting his actions much.

"I haven't laughed so much in forever!" Harry gasped between convulsions, eyes teary.

"Yes well, glad to entertain. But err- Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

Harry took a deep breath, wiping his face and straightening his body with minor difficulty.

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry, curious.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

Harry inwardly narrowed his eyes, but was careful not to show his suspicion to Hagrid.

"Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry, who promptly vanished under the great size of it.

"You can keep under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

"You're...you're taking me?" Harry asked, surprised that someone was actually taking him away from the Dursleys.

"O'course! Don't expect those muggles would, someone has to!" He exclaimed, opening the door carefully and holding it open for Harry.

"Unless you'd rather stay?"

Harry resisted the urge to cry, and nearly sprinted out the door, occasionally tripping over Hagrid's coat.

"Not a chance!"

* * *

So, I think that around here I'm going to stop going chapter by chapter according to the book. I mainly did it to set the stage and add to Harry's personality. But now time to really get into the creative groove and go my own way! I'm hyped!

I'm not making him cruel or dark or anything so don't freak out.

I'm making his sorting into Slytherin a little more realistic. Ambitious and cunning, Slytherins know how to get what they want and while not exactly manipulative, they know how to work people.

Something about Slytherins is that while Gryffindor works for "the greater good of the entire group", Slytherins work for their own greater good, whether that is them only or for example the greater good involving family and friends as well. I want Harry to start as "how can this benefit me?". Because coming from an environment like the Dursleys, that's a realistic attitude to have. However, the sorting hat was conflicted between both Slytherin and Gryffindor for Harry. So I want to develop his "all for one" aspect into his "one for all" trait that we all admire him for in the books.

From my experience as both a violently abused child and a paramedic who has to treat a lot of abuse victims, I'm adding to his personality how most of the children are.

I know for a fact that I used pity if I could. Any chance I got, if it benefited me in the end I would use the emotions of the people around me to get some kindness.

Of course my situation is much different from Harry's! So I'm not turning him into me. I'm adding that "I could use this" aspect to him, but also the suspicious aspect. Children who are abused all their lives usually don't accept kindness from people because we tend to think along the lines of "no one is kind for free."

Not everyone is like this, but some and I'll even venture to say most, are.

Im not even allowed to be alone with abuse victims of any kind as a paramedic, because they have on several occasions accused me and other paramedics/emts/ems of things like molestation. Kindness isn't something they're used to. To them it's to the point where "I'll hurt you before you can hurt me".

I find Harry to be the strongest little fucker I've ever had the pleasure of growing up with. He's so fucking strong and kind. I wanted nothing more than for my family to burn. I never for a moment thought like Harry did-not wanting them to be hurt. Wanting them safe despite their flaws. He was kind to everyone he felt needed kindness. He wasn't nearly like what I was. I suppose that's what made him so successful in Gryffindor. He was very brave, and I really admire that. So I'm going to try to keep him that way. I really am. So don't worry.

Harry's staying Harry.

On that note:

If anyone is or was abused and needs help or someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to PM me. It's nice to have someone to talk to, who won't judge or pity you.


	5. Chapter 5

DIAGON ALLEY. I love Diagon Alley. And actually Hogsmead too but that won't show up for this book so I'm not going to talk about that as much. When I first read the books when I was little, like...I don't even know, seven? When Philosopher's Stone first came out, I fell in love with the little shopping area. Just the idea of these fantastical shops lying just out of reach was so enrapturing! I really wish JKR spent more time in Diagon Alley, but I understand why she didn't. She set the seen, wonderfully might I add, and continued with the story.

I really want to go shopping there though. fuckin goals. Because of my love for it, I'm going to be spending a bit more time there before going off to Hogwarts. Unfortunately you all won't see it too much in this chapter, as it was getting so long I decided to cut it short into two separate chapters, but you all get a nice taste!

I hope you enjoy this!

Please review to let me know what you guys all think! Around here I'm more free to leave the original story so I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry had never been to London before. He mentioned this nervously to Hagrid a few times as they trudged through the crowded city.

"Don'chu worry 'bout anythin' 'Arry." Harris again assured Harry as the small boy reached out to cling to Hagrid's coat.

He felt safe with Hagrid for the most part, but there were just so many people… He thought back to the zoo, and longed for the massive crowd that he had to fight through back then. Then he had been uncomfortable sure, but they kept busy enough that Harry hadn't spent much time thinking about the crowds. London he felt, was much worse. Without knowing the destination or anything on the way to distract Harry, he felt small and trapped. He didn't know this place or these people that crowded around and shoved him as he tried to chase after Hagrid's long strides.

Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, and was careful to keep Harry close to him as he parted crowds with ease. He could feel Harry trembling slightly as he clung to his coat. Hagrid sighed, trying to reassure the boy again as he squeezed himself into the London Underground. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly to Harry that the seats were too small and the trains too slow. He was no stranger to London, however he often traveled by magical methods and left the muggles to their odd trains and strange ticket contraptions.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.

When people shopping and browsing the streets spotted them, people would look at Hagrid in horror before parting for him. Harry quickly picked up the pace and stuck right behind him so as to not get swept away.

The pair passed so many shops of all kinds; restaurants, book stores, shops that played loud attention grabbing music and some that looked run down and unsafe. However no matter how much Harry looked, he couldn't find a single one that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand, or anything on his list for that matter!

Frowning, Harry took the safe moments he found in Hagrid's shadow to open the letter from the mysterious Hogwarts and look at the supply list once more.

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

 _COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:  
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore _

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

 _OTHER EQUIPMENT_

 _wand_

 _cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

 _set glass or crystal phials  
telescope set  
brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad (no exceptions made!)  
_

 _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN  
BROOMSTICKS  
_

Harry quickly scanned the street and looked up at Hagrid, tugging on his sleeve lightly in an attempt to catch his attention.

"Aye? What is it 'Arry?"

"Hagrid, I haven't seen any magic shops… Or that bank you were telling me about earlier," Harry bit his lip nervously. The bank Hagrid described earlier-Gringotts. A fantastical bank run by goblins that Harry was warned not to anger. "This is just an ordinary street." He looked up at Hagrid cautiously, not wanting to be scolded or yelled at for asking what was probably a stupid question.

Hagrid chuckled and kept walking, checking to see if Harry was still following.

"That's 'cause this _is_ an ordinary street Harry. We're not quite there yet." He said in a kind voice that calmed Harry down and made the small boy smile softly. He really liked this man, Hagrid was amazing. He was kind and gentle, didn't yell at Harry at all. Even when Harry asked all kinds of strange questions about the wizarding world. It was new to Harry, but he could certainly get used to it.

"This is it," said Hagrid, stopping abruptly, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place." he declared, gesturing to a tiny, grubby pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there.

Apparently Harry wasn't alone in this either; he looked around to see that none of the other thousand people swarming around them so much as glanced at the decrepit building. Even the people who were looking from shop to shop as they walked seemed to slid right over it without a second thought.

Harry thought about this for a moment… Perhaps only they could actually see it? Maybe you needed magic to go in… It was a wizard pub after all apparently. Harry opened his mouth to confirm his theory when Hagrid had steered him inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and run down, Harry would probably not question calling it shady either. It was certainly not a place that Harry would ever see himself going on his own. It didn't feel comforting or safe. He shrunk closer to Hagrid, becoming nervous once again. There were only a few patrons inside right now, a couple old women and a few men at the counter talking to the bartender. The low humming of voices died down when they walked in, but quickly started up again-calling out greetings and waving to the giant. The bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?" Harry bit his lip, he only ever knew uncle Vernon when drunk, and he was cruel and nasty to Harry when he drank the awful stuff. He looked up at his escort, wondering if he would indeed accept the bartender's offer.

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his massive hand on Harry's bony thin shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle with the accidental strength behind the impact.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this - can this be -?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent, all eyes on the extremely uncomfortable boy.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.  
Harry resisted the urge to yank his hand away. The mans hands were wet and slightly sticky, probably from some spilled drink. Harry focused hard on a small smile, not wrinkling his face in distaste as much as he wanted to.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him so intently he felt like he could feel the stares piercing his skin. He looked up to Hagrid for some kind of escape or support, but withered when he saw that Hagrid was beaming proudly at Harry. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"Oh hang on!" Harry burst out, memories flooding him as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in the old man's excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop! Didn't you?" He asked, nervous about remembering wrong and insulting the wizard.

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more much to his displeasure. It wasn't anything personal to the patrons, but he didn't want to be touched or fawned over like this. He just wanted to continue on his way to the magical bank Hagrid told him about. However, Harry bit back his requests to hurry and leave. He couldn't upset these people, they looked so happy and just wanted to meet him... They wouldn't hurt him, so he shouldn't, he shouldn't feel so put off. It would be selfish to admit it; He didn't like that all these people flocked to him. He didn't want them watching him. Their eyes burned Harry and made him want to run from the pub. The bustling street outside felt like nothing compared to this.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. Probably more nervous than even Harry! One of his eyes was twitching, making Harry think of the mad scientists from movies he was able to sneak out of his cupboard to see sometimes.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, staring at Harry's hand for a moment, as if thinking it over before finally reaching out and grasping it on his sweaty hands, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you." His tone made Harry think otherwise. Despite the stammering, something was...off...about this man.

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked, finding that despite how all sorts of bells and whistles were going off in his mind, he could stand to ignore how awful his stomach felt when Quirrell grasped Harry's hands, and how he felt his hands tremble in the man's sweaty grasp, in order to speak with him. He was his future teacher after all! The Dursleys just had Harry Paranoid. There was no way a man like Albus Dumbledore-whom Hagrid sang praise of so often- would hire a dangerous man, right? Harry had nothing to fear from this trembling man.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, grimacing and looking simply sick to his stomach at the very mention of it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously, though Harry didn't quite understand what he meant by that. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought, and looked around warily, as if expecting a vampire to jump out at him at this very moment..

Harry wondered why the professor would study something so terrifying if he was this scared by it, but he wasn't able to ask before she was swarmed once again.

The other patrons evidently couldn't tell that Harry was beyond uncomfortable with the whole situation and decided they wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"So sorry you lot, but we really must get on - lots ter buy after all. And not much time! Come on then, Harry."

Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time, with Harry politely yanking his hand away and shooting her an apologetic smile that he wasn't quite feeling, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. Harry sighed in exasperated relief, grateful to be away from the handsy throng inside. Hagrid grinned at Harry.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?" Harry asked, trying to ignore his apparent fame and look to other topics.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?" Hagrid mumbled, patting his pockets a moment before fishing out the pink umbrella and facing the wall.

Vampires? Hags? Harry could hardly contain his excitement. And confusion. Vampires are real? What's a hag? Does he have to worry about these things often? Hagrid, meanwhile in the midst of Harry's mental turmoil, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.  
"Three up... two across," he muttered, face skewed with concentration. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick Hagrid tapped began to shake and squirm as a hole began to grow from it's center. Harry stared in disbelief as it grew wider and wider until a mere moment later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobblestone street that twisted and turned out of sight, bright colourful stores lining it's sides, flags and ads roped across like telephone wires.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at Harry's complete amazement. He nudged him slightly, urging Harry to step through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the passage shrink instantly back into solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, a sign hanging over them.

Harry couldn't help stopping and admiring the cauldrons through the shop window. Some glimmered in the light and others were so large he could swim in them easily. Hagrid chuckled at Harry's enthusiasm, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him away.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Harry wished very much that he had more eyes or all the time in the world to explore this fantastic place. He swiveled his head in every direction, with such enthusiasm he was surprised he hadn't hurt himself or run into anyone yet. They walked up the busy street, Harry trying his absolute best to look at everything at once, before he could wake up from this dream. Everything called out to his senses, demanding his attention and by God, he was going to answer every one of their calls: the colourful shops, the fantastic otherworldly things outside them, the oddly dressed people doing their shopping.

One woman dressed in long olive green robes stood outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..."

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop the pair were passing, causing Harry to stop and admire the large tan bird with a white face and dark eyes that sat upon a wooden sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Harry turned back to the owl sitting upon the sign, assuming it was a barn owl. He saw one before, back at the zoo with the Dursleys. It hooted softly at him. Harry smiled and cautiously raised a hand out to it, quietly asking the Owls permission.

It eyed his hand a moment, and as Harry began to get discouraged it stepped closer to him and turned away as it closed its eyes, allowing Harry to giddily stroke it's surprisingly soft feathers. He turned to smile up at Harry, ecstatic that the beautiful owl was allowing him to touch it, and not wanting to say anything that may startle it. Hagrid beamed back.

"This owl's name is Persephone. She belongs to Eeylopes 'imself. She don' really like people much." Harry looked up in horror, worried that he was causing Persephone discomfort, however she hooted indignantly and glared at Harry as if demanding he continue to pet her. "Ye must be special Harry, she's taken quite a shine to ya."Harry gladly obliged the owl as he listened to Hagrid talk, about owls breeds, food and feeding habits and generally how to care for them. After the short lesson, Hagrid and Harry bid farewell to Persephone, continuing their stroll down the street.

Several boys who looked to be Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. Harry was tempted to go join them, amazed that witches and wizards actually used broomsticks! It was like he was dropped into one of the fairytales Aunt Petunia used to tell Dudley before bed! He held strong however, remaining with Hagrid, not wanting to waste his time and be a bother.

"Look," Harry heard one of the boys say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest model ever made -" Harry took a quick glance at the red wood of the broom handle, wanting to sneak over and get a closer look, however not wanting to again waste time, Harry hurried after Hagrid and continued to awe at the magical world around him.

There were several shops selling colourful robes of various styles that looked they belonged in medieval times, long and trailing, some with high necks and sharp shoulders, and some that looked fairly modern like Muggle suits. Harry looked with interest at the shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments that Harry had never seen before. Hagrid rattled off the names of the shops, and giving him a brief description of each; their wares, what the prices were like, how popular they were, and nodding, Harry absorbed every word.

The shops that intrigued Harry the most were the many apothecaries and potion shops-their windows were filled with stacked barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, seeds and flowers of so many kinds Harry could only hope to learn them all.

In a store called Flourish and Blotts, there stood towering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment that looked about ready to fall at any moment's notice. But the witches working there didn't seem worried as they expertly pulled items from the middles of each tower. One store they passed had already brewed potions and cauldrons and bottles lined up along the walls, colourful smoke rose from each. Harry was tempted to go in, he wanted to know what each strange liquid was and what they did-why the smoke some of them gave off was curling differently than others and if it meant anything. But before harry could get distracted too much, Hagrid reached out and tapped his shoulder a little harder than he meant to, causing Harry to flinch and look timidly up at the giant.

"Sorry Harry, jus' we arrived at Gringotts," said Hagrid pointing up to the Perfectly white marble building that towered over the other little shops lining the street. Not a blemish stained it's walls, and the sun reflecting off it gave Harry the impression that the building gave off it's own light, though that seemed silly. Although, perhaps magic _could_ do such a thing... Standing beside it's intimidatingly large bronze doors, wearing a military-esque uniform of scarlet and gold, was a creature Harry admitted he never expected to actually see, even though Hagrid told him about them earlier. It was at least a foot shorter than even small Harry, with a wrinkled stretched out face and long pointed ears, and wispy grey hair.

"That's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward it. "Told ye' they guard Gringotts. Mostly run by 'em actually. Though some witches n' wizards work 'ere as well." Something about the shrewd way it watched the two approach with its beady eyes unnerved Harry, and made him quickly decide to never get on one's bad side. The goblin adjusted its little waistcoat, causing Harry to notice its very long fingers and feet as they neared him. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.  
_

"Like I said, Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid, referring back to the conversation he and Harry held before leaving the inn this morning. Hagrid had told him about his apparent inheritance and how the goblins of Gringotts protected the money of every wizard. Gringotts was special after all-it's one and only wizarding bank in all of the wizarding world! While Harry found this rather impractical, he is merely and eleven year old boy. The people who decided on this bank being the lone one must have had a reason.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a huge marble hall with wide walls and tall ceiling. Candles lined the walls, the candlelight shining like stars among the hall. At least a hundred more goblins were sitting on tall stools behind a long counter that stretched completely around the hall, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these with ease. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter.

"Good Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin, who glared at Hagrid as if to say that 'no it's most certainly _not_ a good morning, thank you kindly for reminding me'. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, Sir?" the goblin asked, holding out an expectant hand, a brow raised, stretching out the saggy skin of the goblins face. Hagrid nodded, patting a few pockets of his coat.

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, much to the goblins distaste. He placed a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers and accounts that Harry was currently admiring the handwriting in. The goblin wrinkled his nose and pushed them slowly off his paperwork. Trying not to laugh, Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

Harry sighed, eyeing them. It's not that he wanted a lot of money. Not exactly. He was used to having very little anything so he could live with very little money. However, freedom required money. He wanted to not be scared of returning to the Dursleys. He wanted to not have to worry about starving when they didn't want him fed because he could go out and get his own food. He wanted to be able to buy new glasses instead of having to tape together his every time Dudley broke them. He wanted to be able to see a doctor when Dudley hit him too hard, so he wouldn't be in so much pain for as long. The Dursleys hated seeing him cry after all. But Harry didn't feel the need for an allowance to buy sweets and toys like Dudley did. He was okay with whatever he had, though maybe he'd like a new book every now and then...

"Ah! There yeh are! Lil' bugger." The giant exclaimed suddenly, more to himself than the goblin though. "Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely, nodding almost reluctantly.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, puffing out his chest like one of the Owls from before. "It's about the You Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

You-know-what? What's the you-know-what? Harry certainly doesn't know what it is, and judging by Hagrid's attempt to be inconspicuous he was t supposed to know. Harry watched very carefully as the letter exchanged hands. He doubted asking would make Hagrid talk, adults keeping secrets that they didn't want others to know look a lot like he does now- quiet, shifty, trying too hard to act normal.

The goblin read the letter carefully, looking suddenly unsure and cautious, holding the letter with delicate fingers, like the letter itself was more valuable than the rubies the other was measuring.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have Someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin Harry discovered, and just as unpleasant as the others. Once Hagrid quickly shoved all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked, curiosity eating away at him and figuring he'd try his hand at point blank questions. Hagrid had been very giving so far when it came to his questions.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously, much to Harry's expected disappointment. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the white marble door open for them. Harry, who had expected more pristine white marble, was surprised to say the least. They were in a narrow stone passageway that looked like it had been recently carved lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward to where a little railway track passed through. Griphook whistled sharply and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. Led by the goblin Griphook, they climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off. Without warning the cart jolted to life and shot forward along the tracks.

At first they hurtled through a maze of twisting, turning and other heart-stopping passages. Harry held on to the cart and Hagrid for dear life. It seemed more like a roller coaster than a bank. Apparently the rattling cart knew its own way to the vault, because Griphook wasn't steering and didn't seem to have any interest in doing so.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open, not daring to close them for even a second. While he felt mildly terrified, the rushing feeling was a welcome rush that surged through Harry. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

When they crawled to a stop, Harry looked up at Hagrid to find that he looked very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. Harry felt a surge of totally undeserved and childish pride that he was absolutely fine-though shaken- and it was his _first_ time on something like this!

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mountains of gold coins. Tall stacks of silver and piles upon piles of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's - it was incredible. It was too much! All of this, belonging to only him...

The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep and feed? Harry could argue this, considering they never gave him anything that they hadn't already given to Dudley and rarely allowed him food, but alas, they complained none the less. And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. Harry stared quietly, completely overwhelmed. He could use this to escape…

Hagrid, after rousing Harry back to life, helped Harry pile some of it into a little moleskine bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, anyway, that should be enough fer a while, if ye' need more we can come back. But don' you worry, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook sternly, narrowing his eyes as Hagrid shook the entire cart getting on.

After Harry climbed into the cart, he leaned forward to Griphook, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"Th-think we could go a little faster?" He whispered mischievously, not wanting Hagrid to be sick but wanting to have fun this time around. The goblin stared at him a moment.

"One speed only." He stated in a firm voice that made Harry almost pout in disappointment. But he nodded and sat back, bracing himself for the cart to surge forward. That is until they started moving, and he noticed much to his delight that they were indeed going faster this time. He laughed as they spun around a corner, trying to feel bad for the groaning Hagrid who sat beside him.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. Harry laughed giddily at some of the turned and curves, enjoying the rushing feeling that he imagined is what flying felt like. His stomach lurched and soared inside him as they dropped, twisted, curled and turned in nearly impossible directions that Harry was sure could have been dangerous in any other situation. No wonder no one robbed the place! They'd all be dreadfully sick by the time they arrived Or maybe they'd fall right out of the cart! When they stopped at a vault, Harry quietly thanked Griphook, who insisted that he had done nothing, despite the slight smirk he wore as he watch Hagrid gather himself. Harry felt himself coming down from the rush, and took a moment to look at the vault. It looked to be a plain door, exactly like his own vault- except for one thing; Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly, urging them back with a long hand before he turned to face the door. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away, much to Harry's amazement.

"That was fantastic!" He exclaimed, smiling at the goblin who looked to stand a little straighter, but overall unaffected by the young boys praise.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook, possibly showing off a little.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin, Harry bit back his comment, he was tempted to say something along the lines of thieves getting what they deserved, as he hated thieves, and bullies in general. but being locked away with no control was awful. He hated his cupboard so much and considered it torture at times, so he could hardly imagine what someone would go through in the vault. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty.

Then he spotted a small brown paper package lying on the floor. Quickly striding in to retrieve it, Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask. Straightforwardly at least.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later, Hagrid practically had to drag Harry out of Gringotts, as the boy seemed keen on befriending half the goblins there. They stood in the sunlight outside Gringotts, eyes adjusting to the bright natural light. Harry didn't know where to go shopping first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life -and more importantly, much more money than even Dudley had ever had. He felt a bit overwhelmed, suddenly being able to go buy whatever he liked, and to be honest with himself he enjoyed the feeling. He opened his mouth to ask Hagrid where they should stop first, when he saw an owl perched on the Giant's shoulder-a dark brown one with sharp eyes and tufts of feathers on its head.

Hagrid was quickly reading a letter that Harry noticed bore the same wax seal that his Hogwarts letter had.

"Oh bugger…" He muttered, worrying Harry greatly. Hagrid glanced at him with sad eyes, and sighed. "I'm real sorry Harry but Professor Dumbledore called me back to Hogwarts, says it's real urgent I get there immediately." Harry could feel himself deflating. He tried to not look at sad as he felt. Hagrid looked guilty and quickly tried to recover the good mood.

"Don' you worry now, Dumbledore's replacing me, someone should be 'ere soon to help ye shop. They'll be one o'yer professors from Hogwarts. Tell ye what, you go head over there and get yer uniform sorted out. They'll meet ye there." Harry looked up at Hagrid, not feeling very confident and glanced over at the store, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Alright. I'll be fine." He muttered, trying to sound sure of himself. Hagrid smiled reassuringly and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"I'll be seein'ye soon Harry."

Harry watched him leave, and vanish into the crowd. Once finally out of view, Harry took a deep breath, and turned to the store. It shouldn't be difficult, right?

* * *

You lot ready to meet Draco?

CAUSE THATS WHATS NEXT

But you all of course knew that. GUESS WHO'S COMING DOWN TO HELP HIM SHOP? Bah, it's probably obvious. Oh well. :D

I'm working really hard on not letting my ship feels leak into the story too soon, I don't really want any love at first sight anything, but having Harry describe Draco from his point of view is proving to be difficult. At first. I'm having fun with it so you'll see it up soon!

I'm curious, what Harry Potter ships do you readers ship?  
I'm planning out future books as I write this one, so I've been thinking about relationships and friendships among the cast and how to best develop them.


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